Seasons of the Heart
by Little Miss Fearless
Summary: With a stressful job and an abusive husband, Agent James' life is what you call complicated. But when she's assigned to the Fox River Eight case, things get even more twisted as the past surfaces. Will professional and personal boundaries be crossed?
1. Wanted Dead or Alive

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Prison Break.

**Claims:** Kassidy Blake-James and Richard James belong to me. I represent full ownership of these non-canon characters. The plot will also eventually break off and follow my own original idea.

**Rated:** T for some strong language, violence, and non-explicit adult themes

**POV:** Kassidy Blake-James

**Summary: **With a stressful job and an abusive husband, Agent James' life is what you call complicated. But when she's assigned to the Fox River Eight case, things get even more twisted as the past surfaces. Will professional and personal boundaries be crossed?

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><p><strong>Note #1:<strong> This story was inspired by a dream I had a few weeks ago. It wasn't technically a dream, it was more of a nightmare, but hey, at least something good came out of it. LOL Anyway, this plot will follow along with S2 and might go a bit into S3, but I'm not sure yet.

**Note #2:** I will be incorporating lots of scenes from the show in this, but I am VERY careful about giving my OC her own lines rather than just giving her other characters' lines. I'm not a fan of doing that. I want something new and fresh. Also, I promise as the story moves forward, more and more new dialogue and scenes will be added along with a continuation of adding scenes from the show. As you'll notice, I put my own flavor on the scenes from the show so they're different. I don't want people just reading a script of the show all over again. That'd be boring, hey?

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><p><strong>Seasons of the Heart<strong>

Chapter 1: Wanted Dead or Alive

Four o'clock A.M. meant it was time for another busy day at the CIA Agency. I groggily rolled over in bed and let my hand fall onto the snooze button on my blaring alarm clock. This time of the morning sucked. I had a strong belief that if the sun wasn't up yet, no human in their right mind should be up either.

Groaning, I forced myself to sit up as I rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes. I glanced next to me to see my husband still lying down, though my alarm clock had apparently woken him because I could hear him grumbling in annoyance. I just rolled my eyes as I climbed out of bed and opened the dresser next to me to retrieve my clothes for the day. I quickly decided on a white button down blouse and my charcoal gray suit pants. Draping the clothes over my arm, I began to walk towards the bathroom, which was attached to our bedroom on the far wall to my left.

I had just stepped through the door and was getting ready to close it behind me when my cell phone began to ring on the nightstand next to my bed. It was my work phone, so I knew right away it was important. Tossing my outfit on the counter, I literally dashed across the room to answer it before my husband had a temper tantrum. Quickly grabbing it, I made a b-line back to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me as I flipped it open.

"Agent James," I said formally.

"James, we need you at the agency as soon as possible," my supervisor said urgently.

"Why?" I asked, wondering what in the world was up that could make the man on the other end of the phone sound so distressed.

"Just get here!" he barked and then the line went dead.

I let the phone clatter to the counter and swiftly slipped my clothes on. After brushing my teeth, I pulled a brush through my long, tangled hair and then tied it back with a rubber band into a tight ponytail at the base of my skull. I always kept it back while on the job to avoid it falling in my face all the time.

Picking up my phone again, I bolted out of the bathroom preparing to run out the door, but instead I found my husband standing in the middle of the room with his arms folded across his chest in a manner that I had come to know well. I knew immediately he wasn't happy and it wasn't hard to figure out why.

"I don't have time for this, Richard," I said with a sigh as I picked up my purse and binder off the floor.

"I don't want you going to work today," Richard said, his tone suggesting I'd better not argue with him.

Looking up at him, "My job is important. I can't just not show up," I said, irritation obvious on my face as I slipped on my black heels.

"Do I need to teach you some respect?" Richard spat as he grabbed my already bruised wrist in a painful squeeze.

I shook my head vigorously back and forth. "No, no! I'm sorry! I just really have to go, honey," I said softly, trying to calm him down before he did something worse than grab me.

He snorted. "Get out of here," he growled as he pushed me backwards.

I about tripped over my heels, but managed to catch myself as I stumbled out the bedroom door and down the stairs. I couldn't wait to get out of the house. I hated it here. It had never been a real home. I was a prisoner in it and nothing more.

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><p>After a ten-minute drive, I pulled up in front of the building where I knew my cranky supervisor was awaiting my arrival. I coasted into one of the parking spots reserved for employees and practically ran into the building, struggling to balance all of the items in my arms. The ride up the elevator seemed longer than usual, so I was relieved when I finally heard the ding signaling my stop, which was the eighth floor. It didn't come as a surprise when I found my boss literally waiting just outside the elevators as I stepped off.<p>

"There you are! What took you so long?" he began to pester me.

I shot a glare at him. "I'm here now! Can you just explain to me what the hell is so urgent, Agent Davis?" I snapped impatiently.

"There was an escape from Fox River Prison last night, precisely eight o'clock," he explained rather quickly.

I raised an eyebrow in question. "And?"

Davis handed me a folder. "Someone called me this A.M. at home. They asked for you personally. They want you on this case," he informed me.

"Why?" I asked as I opened the tan folder. It contained eight different mug shots of who I assumed were the escapees.

"You're our best agent, James. I know if anyone can track these scumbags down, it's you," he said. I looked at him in surprise at the compliment. "Someone will escort you to Fox River where you'll meet with a Special Agent, Alex Mahone. He'll brief you on their course of action. Good luck, " he finished and then walked away.

Letting my eyes wander back to the folder in my hands, I began to flip through the pictures and profiles inside.

_Michael Scofield: 5 years for armed robbery._

_Lincoln 'Sink' Burrows: Scheduled to die on 5/11/2005 for the murder of the vice president's bother, Terrance Steadman._

_David 'Tweener' Apolskis: 5 years for grand larceny._

_Benjamin 'C-Note' Miles: Former U.S. Army; 8 years for possession of stolen goods._

_John Abruzzi: Former Chicago mob boss; life without parole for conspiracy to commit murder._

_Charles 'Haywire' Patoshik: 60 years for second-degree murder._

_Theodore 'T-Bag' Bagwell: Life for six counts of kidnapping, rape, and first-degree murder._

_Fernando Sucre: 5 years for aggravated robbery._

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><p>"You must be Agent James from the CIA. They informed us you were coming. I'm Agent Lang," an African American woman with short, curly black hair greeted me as we shook hands.<p>

I smiled warmly. "I was instructed to meet an Agent Mahone here," I said more as a question than a statement.

"He's just about to give a press conference. He'll meet with you after," Agent Lang replied as she led me to a large room filled with reporters.

At the podium stood a thin, middle-aged man with slightly graying dark blonde hair that I figured was Mahone. Dozens of cameras flashed as reporters snapped pictures of him, and I couldn't help but notice he looked a little nervous as he cleared his throat to speak.

"I'd like to, uh, talk about John Wilkes Booth for a moment if I could, Abraham Lincoln's killer," he began and immediately the room fell silent. "Twelve days, that's how long it took to find him. In his journal during this period he wrote that the shadow was his friend, the night his domain." He paused for a moment before continuing. "He acknowledged that whatever neuroses drove the criminal to commit the original crime is compounded, magnified by flight, by the sounds of dogs at his heels." His eyes scanned the crowd in front of him with fierce seriousness. "Fear becomes paranoia, paranoia ultimately psychosis." He paused again to let those in the room take in this information. "I bring this up because in 140 years the fundamental mind of the escaped man has not changed. The escaped man is still human, he is still afraid, and he will stop at nothing in his attempted flight. Fortunately for us, while our quarry has shadow and night as his ally, we have something far greater – television. I would encourage everyone who is watching, everyone in this country to take a good look at these faces." He turned to the board next to him that had pictures of all eight convicts pinned to it. "These men right here are now the eight most wanted men in America," he concluded as he stepped down, ignoring the questions being shouted at him.

Agent Lang ushered me to follow her as she made her way up to him. "Alex, Agent James is here," she said, gesturing at me.

Alex looked up at me, his facial features sharp and serious. "Glad to have you, James," he said, firmly shaking my hand.

I quickly pulled my sleeve down, noticing the bruises on my arm were slightly exposed. "Nice to meet you, Agent Mahone, and I'm happy to offer any help you may need." I smiled softly at him. "So what's the plan?"

"I'm about to have a discussion with the warden if you'd like to join me," he offered. "Lang, I want you to go back to the bureau and find as much information on Scofield as you can. He's the brain behind all this and I want to know what his next step is. Call me if you find anything."

Agent Lang smiled and nodded her head, then turned to leave.

I trailed behind Alex as we walked hastily to catch up with the warden who was briskly leaving the reporter filled room.

"Warden!" Agent Mahone called after him, picking up his pace even more to catch up with the burly man.

"It's a little early for the FBI to be showing up, don't you think?" Pope said irritably, not bothering to turn around as he continued to walk forward in long, aggressive strides.

Both annoyed at his rudeness, we jogged until up behind him.

"Look I get it, it's still your investigation, but once those criminals cross state lines it will become a federal matter," Mahone replied.

"Yeah, well that's not gonna happen," the warden said shortly, finally stopping and turning to face us. He didn't look happy, though, I wasn't really surprised by this.

"I hope you're right," Alex responded coolly as he came to stand in front of Warden Pope. I stood at his side. "That's why I was gonna suggest that we cut through any inter agency politics from the outside, full transparency."

"This should complicate matters less," I interjected.

Pope glanced at both of us. "Absolutely," he said in a less harsh tone. My boss had succeeded in gaining his cooperation.

"Good," Mahone and I said in unison. He glanced at me before his gaze met the warden's again.

The round of questioning that followed didn't go as well as I had hoped. The moment Alex mentioned Dr. Sara Tancredi and her possible involvement in aiding the escape, Pope blew up in our faces. I mean I understood he was trying to protect his staff, but he also needed to understand that we had a job to do and that involved questioning anybody who may have information regarding this breakout.

"That went well," I said sarcastically as the two of us started our way back to the front of the prison.

We walked swiftly as we made the long trek out the main doors and across the parking lot to a black SUV. It was hot outside and just the little bit of walking we had done was already causing me to break a sweat.

"If he wants to play hardball, he'll learn quickly that I'm mighty familiar with that game," Agent Mahone said as he opened the passenger door for me.

"Thanks," I said as I slid inside and allowed him to close the door again behind me.

I watched through the windshield as he walked around the front of the truck and climbed into the driver's seat. He quickly started the engine, which roared to life and stepped on the gas. We tore out of the parking lot, gravel flying up from our tires.

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><p>I stood leaning against the hood of the truck and a train sat unmoving on the tracks to my left. Mahone had just sent a fellow agent by the name of Ives off to find out more about the woman who did Scofield's tattoos. We had been informed the convicts had narrowly escaped authorities here only an hour before.<p>

Slipping his sunglasses off his nose, "Mr. Bellick," Mahone said, obviously hoping to speak with the CO.

"Don't talk to me," Bellick grumbled as he marched on by without acknowledging Alex's presence at all.

I had a sudden urge to slap the jerk as I pushed myself up off the hood of the car into an upright position.

Mahone apparently knew where my mind was because he put a hand out in an 'it's okay' manner. "Fine, but it's going to make collaboration kind of hard," he responded, which made Officer Bellick stop in his tracks and turn toward us. His eyes studied us as if we were crud on his shoe.

"Collaboration? I got men out here in harms way and you're giving press conferences," he said bitterly, getting in Agent Mahone's face.

"The press is a tool. It'll bring those men back quicker than blood hounds will," Alex challenged.

"We don't need you," CO Bellick hissed in retaliation. "We're hot on these guys' trail and it's just a matter of time before we nail 'em."

"The problem I find with being on a trail is that by definition you'll always be behind your prey," Mahone said smartly, raising his eyebrows.

Bellick stared at him furiously for another few seconds. "We'll see about that," he muttered and then stormed away.

Alex just shook his head in frustration.

"Little wiseass punk," I whispered angrily under my breath.

"We'll see who has the last laugh," Mahone said, looking at me with a tiny smirk.

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><p>I now found myself in Michael Scofield's old apartment looking over the place for anything that might give us any leads as to where the escapee might be going, but the place was clean. Everything had been stripped down to the bare walls. The only evidence left that any sort of person ever lived here was hundreds of pinholes in a long white wall. Alex had ordered to get divers down in the water as well, suspecting Scofield may have ditched his plan in the river.<p>

I walked slowly around the tiny table in front of me studying the pictures of Michael's tattoos, though my eyes kept going back to one particular shot of the words _Ripe Chance Woods_. Mahone stood talking with Ives about something that I only caught a few words of because my attention was fully focused on the picture that had been puzzling me all day.

_Ripe Chance Wood, Ripe Chance Woods, Ripe Chance Woods… _I kept repeating over and over in my head as if the more I said it the more it favored my chances of figuring it out.

"James, James," Alex said rather loudly, snapping me from my thoughts.

"Huh? What?" I said, looking up at him in slight confusion.

"We got a lead. Come on," he said, scurrying to grab all the pictures scattered in front of us as we dashed out the door.

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><p>The SUV flew down the highway going approximately 15 miles over the speed limit as we set our sights on arriving at the location of this new lead, a storage warehouse in Oswego.<p>

"Let me see those pictures of Scofield's tattoos again," I said from the back seat.

"Sure," Mahone said, handing me the pile of photos.

I crossed my legs and laid the snapshots on my knee as I quickly rummaged through them until I came back to the one I wanted. Sticking my hand over the seat, "Agent Ives, I need your PDA," I said. The older agent obliged.

"What do you have, James?" Agent Mahone asked.

I looked up to see him gazing at me through the rearview mirror. "I'll let you know as soon as I figure it out."

The rest of the ride was completely silent and when we pulled up to our destination, I didn't bother looking up as I punched in various searches for the words _Ripe Chance Woods_. So far the searches I'd done for places with that name had come up empty.

"Damn it!" I half shouted with an aggravated sigh as I placed my hand to my forehead and stared at the picture again. It was then that it hit me. Rolling down my window, I leaned out. "Alex," I said.

He looked at me. "Yeah?"

"It's a name," I said quickly.

"What?" he asked, rather confused by my lack of information.

"Ripe Chance Woods, it's a name," I repeated, holding the photo up for him to see.

My partner's eyes widened as he pieced my information together. "We need to go to the cemetery, _now_," he said as he jumped back into the vehicle.

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><p>I slid out of the truck and jogged ahead of Mahone and Ives as my eyes fell on a dug up grave on the edge of the woods with four shovels lying on top of the dirt. Kneeling down, I proceeded to take a closer look at the newly disturbed ground. Alex was at my side a moment later, his eyes tracing the phrase <em>R.I.P. E. Chance Woods <em>on the gravestone.

"They were just…-," I began, but the sound of a twig snapping stopped me abruptly as both my partner and I looked up in the direction of the brush.

Simultaneously we both stood up and pulled our guns from their holsters as we ran into the woods. I knew we weren't far behind the cons as I charged full speed through the trees. When I came to a clearing, I glanced behind me to make sure I hadn't missed them, but all I saw was Mahone as I continued to run down a set of wooden railroad tracks. Cars flew down the crumbling road in front of me as I came to a small town.

Hitting the cracked pavement, I jogged until I came to what appeared to be a main street. I slowed down as I looked around frantically in every direction for any sign of the escaped men, but they had disappeared into the bustling crowd of people.

"Shit!" I cursed loudly, causing a few people to glance at me oddly.

I placed my gun back in the holder as I began to walk forward again, my eyes still scanning the busy street. I knew I had very little chance of finding any of them now, but I wasn't one to give up.

"He…-," I tried to shout when I saw Mahone step onto the sidewalk not far from me, but a hand was clasped over my mouth as I was pulled into a dark alleyway and pinned against a brick wall. It wasn't until my eyes came back into focus that I realized who it was.

"How did you know where to go?" the tall man asked, his eyes full of curiosity and anger as he hovered over me. I just shook my head back and forth in fear and confusion, my eyes wide, pleading him to let me go. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want some answers," he tried to reassure me as he lifted his hand off my mouth.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I whispered shakily as his intense eyes pierced my own. I was completely confused.

"Chance Woods, how did you know?" he pressed again. I just shook my head again, not sure how to answer that question. He continued to stare at me for another few tense moments before slowly backing into the shadows. "Leave my brother and me alone." His tone was threatening.

Shaking, I quickly emerged onto the sunlit walk path before allowing myself to collapse onto the ground. Adrenaline coursed through me as my captor's voice echoed in my head and the look on his face imprinted itself in my mind. Replaying the memory over, I realized his intention was never to hurt me. He was just desperate for the one thing we all wanted – answers.

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><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	2. An Elaborate Plan

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 2: An Elaborate Plan

I sat at the desk in my temporary office flipping through the case files of the eight escaped convicts now deemed the Fox River Eight by the media. It never failed that the news would come up with some ridiculous name for high profile cases and it was something I particularly hated because I believed it drew unwanted hype to a case. The television on the wall to my right had since been turned off because of this.

"Eh em."

I looked up to see Agent Ives standing in my doorway. "Yes?"

"Canadian and Mexican border patrols have been informed and supplied with the escapees' mug shots," he informed me.

I nodded with approval. "Now if only I could figure out what Scofield's next move is," I said, throwing the file in my hand down on my desk as I stood up and approached the wall where I had all the photos from the case pinned up.

"With all due respect, Agent James, it's going to be almost impossible to figure out their next move. It's not like these guys left a map where they're going," Ives said, coming to stand next to me.

I looked at him as a smirk formed on my lips. "Actually, yes they did. You see Scofield's tattoos?" I pointed at a couple of the pictures. "They aren't just tattoos, they're a _map_ of his entire plan, how to break out and where to go after they do."

"Sounds far fetched if you ask me," Mr. Ives said as he eyes studied the photos where my hand was.

"Precisely why it's so genius. I mean who goes out of their way to smuggle blueprints into prison by inking them on their body? That's dedication if you ask me," I said, a hint of awe in my tone as I shook my head, baffled.

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><p>"You don't seriously expect the kid to help us, do you?" I questioned, giving Alex a look that clearly said he was completely insane for even considering Lincoln Burrows' son would betray his father.<p>

"You deal your cards right, you'd be surprised what humans will do with enough persuasion," Mr. Mahone replied without looking up from the Lincoln Burrows Jr. file he was skimming over.

I just rolled my eyes. This was a complete waste of time and even I knew it. If this kid was anything like his father or uncle, he wasn't going to speak, period.

All of a sudden, my phone began to vibe in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the caller I.D., groaning inwardly when I saw whom it was. "I have to take this, Alex," I said. He nodded. I hurried out into the hallway. "What is it, Richard? I'm with a suspect!" I snapped in a tone I knew I'd regret later.

"I want your fucking ass home _now_!" Richard shouted down the line. He did this to me all the time while I was at work.

Sighing low enough for only me to hear it, "I can't leave yet. I'll be home as soon as I can," I tried to reason with him.

"Supper better be on the table by six!" he barked and hung up.

Sighing heavily again, I quickly snapped myself back into professional mode as I entered the room again. LJ was now sitting across the table from Mahone. I decided to stand at the door in an effort not to interrupt the spiel my partner was giving the teenager.

"I'll give you the same advice you'd get from the guy working at the deli downstairs," Alex said, waving his eyeglasses in his hand for emphasis. "Start thinking about yourself, now. In fact, the sooner, the better, because no one, not your father, LJ, not your uncle is going to do your time." He stared LJ down, challenge written all over his face while LJ nodded smugly. "And at 16 years old you're looking at a long stretch. How much time you get, where you serve it, who your cellmate might be." He sighed in a manner that clearly depicted this was serious shit to worry about. "You need to start thinking about yourself, now. I want your dad, I want your uncle, and I'm willing to deal," he finished as he stood up to leave. "Don't wait and let someone else get the reward."

I quickly opened the door for him and followed him out. "Nice lecture, Alex. You think he'll cave?" I asked as we strolled down the hallway.

"If he inherited any of his uncle's brains he will," Mahone said, pulling his cell phone out.

I shot my partner a look of disgust that he didn't notice as he updated the team of agents back at the office on the case. I mean I understood the kid was being charged with the double murder of his parents, but I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, too. Something about it just didn't feel right and I needed to find out why.

We both entered a tiny conference room just around the corner from the room where we met with LJ. Mahone was still on the phone, so I decided to use the time to come up with a quick diversion. I needed to talk to LJ without Alex's knowledge in order to get any accurate information out of him. Leaning against the table behind me, I began to think fast and almost instantly I came up with a plan I hoped would work.

"LJ's lawyer, Nick Savrrin was found dead in his apartment half an hour ago," Alex informed me. I heard his phone snap shut, but I didn't look up. "Did you hear me, James?" he asked as he approached me.

I kept my head down and my eyes shut as I forced tears down my face. Now was the time to set this plan of mine in motion. "Yeah, I heard you. Sorry, this case is just a little overwhelming," I lied, easily letting the words roll out of my mouth in a manner that clarified I was supposedly upset.

"What do you need?" Agent Mahone asked, clearly concerned by my sudden breakdown.

"I, uh, just need a moment, please," I said, my gaze still on the floor.

"Sure," Alex said softly as he hesitantly left the room.

When I heard the door click closed I instantly jumped up from the table, wiped the fake tears from my face, and made my way to the other exit door in the room. I knew this door would allow me to get out of the room without Agent Mahone seeing me.

Pulling it open, I jogged down the hallway just as they were escorting LJ from the holding room. "Wait, I'd like to speak with the kid for a moment," I said. The two guards nodded and allowed me to step back into the room with him.

"Look, I already told the other guy I don't know where they're going," LJ said impatiently before I even had a chance to speak.

I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I believe you, LJ, I do," I told him, my eyes locked on his. "I just need you to explain to me what's going on because I didn't hear most of what you said to my partner."

LJ's face twisted to that of confusion. "Why don't you just ask him?"

"Because he doesn't know I'm here," I revealed. LJ blinked a couple of times, almost like he was in shock by what I said. "So tell me everything you said to him." I smiled at him softly, which seemed to relax him.

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><p>After getting the quick rundown I needed, I had managed to sneak back into the room before Alex even realized I was gone. The information I had obtained from LJ seemed utterly absurd, but for some reason I believed the young, soft-spoken kid. Something in his eyes told me he was telling the truth.<p>

"You all right?" Mahone asked as I exited the room out the main door this time.

"Yeah, thanks," I said with a small smile.

"The kid is being arraigned and shipped out today in about an hour. Once he's aboard the transport van you and I are headed back to the office," Mr. Mahone said.

I shifted nervously. "Actually, Sir, I have to go home. It's my husband. He's ill and I…"

"I get it, James," Alex interjected politely.

"Thanks," I said with a nod.

* * *

><p>Agent Mahone and I entered a holding room once again to question LJ for the second time, but this time it was about a mysterious phone call that had come in to the boy.<p>

"We're good," Mr. Mahone said to the guard as he went to sit down at the table across from LJ. "You got a call from Nick Savrrin today. What was that all about?" he questioned.

I took a standing position next to my partner, hoping my presence would calm LJ down slightly.

Shrugging, "He's my attorney. That's privileged," LJ said smartly.

"Hm, that's odd because Nick Savrrin was found dead in his apartment an hour before that call came into you," Alex said, obviously frustrated. Lifting up a tape recorder, he played back a recorded version of the conversation between LJ and a mysterious male.

"_Listen up, LJ, this is real important," a deep male voice instructed._

"_All right," LJ responded quickly._

"_On the third look out for Otis Wright. You got that?" the male said._

Then Mahone quickly stopped the recording as he spoke again. "You know, for someone who's so convinced the government is capable of so many underhanded things, you sure are playing fast and loose with me," he said, a laugh of amusement and building frustration escaping his lips.

"What're you gonna do? Throw another fake murder charge on me?" LJ challenged.

"Who's Otis Wright?" Alex pressed him.

"I have no idea," LJ said.

"I think you do," Agent Mahone said, leaning forward slightly. "And if you don't tell me, after you're convicted I will be in that courtroom when you're sentenced and I will hang you out to dry. Take it to the bank."

LJ's eyes widened slightly in fear and I could almost see a hint of tears welling up in them as the three of us stood up to leave the room. My heart ached for the kid and I found myself wanting to slap Mahone for his insensitivity. After all, this kid was only 16 years old and he seemed to be as confused about all of this as us.

"James, I'll meet you downstairs. I have a quick phone call to make," Alex said.

I just nodded and then proceeded to the stairs. I glanced back to find LJ looking at me with desperation on his face. "It's okay," I mouthed as I pushed the door open and descended down the steps.

* * *

><p>I had been pacing back and forth in front of our black bureau SUV for almost 20 minutes. I hadn't a clue what was taking Mahone so long and it was starting to agitate me. I knew if I didn't get home soon my husband was going to have a conniption. It was already five o'clock and when he said he wanted dinner on the table at six o'clock, he meant precisely six o'clock on the dot. Even a minute late and I knew what the consequences were. Slipping my phone from the clip on my belt, I was just about to dial my partner when his number flashed on my screen.<p>

"Where are you?" I snapped more harshly than I meant to, but I was on a very tight deadline.

"Scofield and Burrows are in the building!" Alex shouted. "They're in the building!"

"What?" I exclaimed, whirling around just in time to see the brothers making a break for it out of the front of the courthouse. "I got 'em, Alex!" I yelled, snapping my phone closed and shoving it in my pocket as I ripped my gun out of its holster with the other hand. "Freeze!" I screamed out the command, but they continued booking it down the sidewalk as I aimed my loaded weapon directly at them and began firing multiple shots.

There was other gunfire besides my own, but I couldn't see where it was coming from as I bolted after the two convicts. I was only a few paces behind as they climbed into some kind of truck. Seeing a clear shot, I took it, hitting one of them clean in the leg as they drove off, hightailing it down the street.

But suddenly within a second I, myself, was going down. "Agh!" I screamed out in pain as I fell to the cement flat on my stomach.

A bullet had pierced me in the back of the shoulder. Tears burned my eyes as intense pain radiated through my left shoulder, arm, and neck. I tried to call out for help, but my voice caught in my throat as a state of shock gripped my body.

Then just before I slipped into an unconscious state, I heard someone yell, "Officer down! Officer down!"

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><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	3. Suppressed

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 3: Suppressed

I groaned as I opened my eyes to a hazy view of a room I didn't recognize. My left shoulder hurt like hell. Blinking to clear my vision, I looked around me and realized I was in the hospital. It was then that it hit me what had happened. I had been shot. By who, I didn't know.

Reaching up, I carefully pulled the blanket on me down and moved my gown aside to take a look at the extent of the damage to my shoulder. It didn't look too bad from what I could see. White gauze now stained red with blood was wrapped multiple times around the afflicted area and several pieces of tape held it in place.

My head snapped to the door when I heard Mahone's voice in the hallway.

"I'm here to see Kassidy James," he told who I assumed was a nurse at the main desk.

"Oh, she's right there, sir. Room 208," a female directed him.

My eyes widened in slight panic as I quickly pulled my gown back onto my shoulder and hiked the blanket up around my neck, not wanting Alex to see the injury or the bruises on my arms. The door opened a moment later and I looked up again as he entered looking flustered.

"Hello, Alex," I said softly, smiling weakly at him.

"How are you feeling, James?" he asked, closing the door behind him and then coming to take a seat next to my bed.

"Hurts like a bitch. What the hell happened?" I asked, letting myself relax into the pillow.

Mr. Mahone shook his head, apparently agitated. "A fellow officer struck you while firing at the brothers," he explained.

"No wonder the bullet pierced me from behind. There were two other officers chasing the brothers as well," I said, trying to recall exactly what had happened. It was all very fuzzy.

Sighing, "The officer who shot you has been immediately suspended while this situation is further investigated. I'm going to do everything in my power to see to it that his badge is revoked permanently. His carelessness almost killed a federal agent," Alex said.

"Alex!" I exclaimed, my eyes wide. "It was an accident! Give the poor man a break! It's not like he did it on purpose!"

"We can't afford accidents like this, nor allow them to happen without consequences," my partner argued, complete seriousness etched on his face.

I just looked at him dumbfounded, but I didn't say anything else on the matter. I knew there was no point in arguing anymore. He was my superior and whatever he said, went. There was nothing I could do. "When are they releasing me?"

Mahone's face changed to a look of realization. "Don't you even think about it, James. You're staying put until your physician decides it's safe for you to leave," he said, pointing a finger at me like a father scolding his child.

"With all due respect, sir, but I'll leave whenever I feel I'm ready. This injury is nothing and we need to get back to the case," I said sternly, but respectfully.

Alex sighed again. "Agent Ives, Lang, and I have things under control. You need your rest if you're going to be of any use to me," he tried to persuade me, but it wasn't working. "And I can't have you out in the field injured. That's asking for trouble. You of all people should know that working for the CIA."

My eyes narrowed slightly as I stared him down in almost a dual. "I'm leaving here _today_," I said more forcefully this time.

"Then you're going home. I _will not_ allow you to work this case again until I feel your ready to jump in headfirst," Mahone said in a no negotiating tone.

"Alex…-," I tried to argue, but he put his hand up to shush me.

"End of discussion," he asserted.

* * *

><p>Mahone had since left and I lay alone, letting the quietness surround me. After a long go around with my doctor, I had finally convinced him to let me leave today. I had called my husband, much to his irritation to tell him to get over here to pick me up. Home wasn't exactly my idea of a good place to recover, but the hospital wasn't doing me any favors either. The crazy environment only made things more stressful.<p>

Carefully sliding out of bed, I got to my feet. It took me a minute to gain my balance. Once stable, I quickly slipped into my pants. I wanted to dress before anybody else had a chance to walk in. As I pulled the sweater the hospital had provided me upon request over my head, I heard the door to my room open again. I turned around to see Richard coming in. He looked absolutely livid.

"Hi, honey," I greeted warmly, hoping to calm him down a bit, though I doubted it would.

Closing the door forcefully, "You little bitch! You thought you could get out of making my dinner! I told you six!" he half shouted, keeping his voice only low enough as to not alarm anyone in the hallway as he stormed over until he was standing in front of me. His 6'0" stature hovered way over my 5'3" stature.

A surge of anger shot through me as I stared at my husband, all the color draining from my face. "I about died on the operating table and all you can think about is the fact that I wasn't home to make your dinner!" I spat angrily. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but at the same time I could. He never cared about anyone but himself.

"How dare you speak to me that way!" he bellowed, his eyes ablaze as he reached up and slapped me hard across the face. It stung with a fiery vengeance.

I reached up and grabbed it as the pain intensified. Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them back. Crying would only make this situation worse because any form of emotion was weakness in Richard's eyes. "I'm sorry," I whispered, meeting his eyes again.

"Hurry up and dress so we can get out of here," he barked.

"I'm ready to go," I informed him, still holding my cheek. "I'm just waiting for the doctor to sign the release papers."

Richard sighed in frustration. "Tell them to get a move on. We haven't got all day and I still have to haul your ass home." He walked around to the opposite side of the bed and fell back into the chair. "Oh, and don't expect me to be waiting on you at home. You're still required to have all meals fixed at their proper times and the house better be spotless," he added and then closed his eyes and relaxed.

I sat down on the edge of my bed and pushed the call button on the railing next to me. It was only a moment before a nurse responded.

"Are you ready to go, Mrs. James?" she asked, letting the door fall closed behind her as she entered the room. I nodded. "All right, let me get this I.V. out of your arm and then I'll inform the doctor. He'd just like to talk to you about a couple of things before you go."

"Sounds good," I said, glancing at my husband. His eyes followed the nurse lustfully as she fumbled about the room gathering the right supplies to remove my I.V.

I felt my blood begin to boil. He was always looking at other women whenever we were out and he didn't even attempt to hide it. He didn't care whether I was in his presence or not. It was always like I wasn't there, but anytime he thought I was even glancing at another guy I was punished severely.

"Okay, let's get this out, dear," the nurse said, coming back over to where I sat. Gently taking my arm, she swiftly and expertly pulled the needle out and taped me up. "That should do it." She smiled warmly at me as she exited the room once again to get the doctor.

The two entered a few seconds later. The physician wasn't the same one I had talked to earlier, and he was clearly from India. I was taken slightly aback by how stunning he was. His dark skin was gorgeous and his deep brown eyes were enough to get lost in.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Sen," he introduced himself, first shaking Richard's hand and then approaching me to shake mine.

Smiling at him, I took it maybe a little too willingly. I hoped my husband hadn't noticed my eagerness. "I'm Kassidy James and this is my husband, Richard," I replied.

"The release papers are ready and signed," Dr. Sen said, handing me them. "But before you go, I'd like to speak with you alone, Mrs. James, if I could." He glanced at my husband.

Richard looked at the two of us and then stood up. "Sure," he said politely, quickly leaving the room. I could tell he was pissed. He was just putting on a good show in front of company.

"Is everything all right?" I asked, looking back at the doctor.

His face went serious all of a sudden. "Mrs. James, the surgeon who worked on you noticed a significant amount of bruises on your arms, which alarmed him," he said.

A flash of panic swept through me, but I hid it well. "Just what are you suggesting?" I questioned defensively.

"The type of bruises you have are common in spousal abuse cases," Dr. Sen responded carefully.

"If your asking whether I'm abused or not, no I'm not," I said shortly as my anxiety began to rise wondering how the hell I was going to get out of this one.

"Anything you tell us, Mrs. James is kept strictly confidential," Dr. Sen tried to press me again.

"I work for the CIA and the FBI. Do you have any idea how demanding that work is physically and mentally? I fall all the time and I'm constantly tackling people. It's not uncommon for people in my line of work to bruise extensively," I said angrily, getting tired of repeating myself.

Dr. Sen sighed in defeat. "All right, but if you need anything, here is my card. Feel free to call me any time," he said. I took it and shoved it in my pocket.

"Can I leave now?" I asked rudely, still angry about being put on the spot. I wanted so badly to tell him the truth, but I knew I couldn't or I'd end up buried somewhere six feet under. He nodded.

Standing up, I grabbed the bag of supplies to redress my wound and practically sprinted out the door. I was happy to be leaving.

* * *

><p>I lay in bed, my mind going a thousand miles per second as thoughts raced through my head. Richard was sound asleep. I could tell by his light snoring and slow, even breathing.<p>

Rolling onto my side facing away from my husband, I allowed myself to listen to the rain for the first time since it started. The ping of it hitting the roof of our apartment was soothing. It symbolized the tears I was too afraid to shed. I couldn't appear weak, not for a second. It was one of many things I had learned in the army.

The military school I had attended, West Point Academy was the major reason as to where I was now in life. My background in combat had landed me my current position in the CIA. The academy was also where I'd met and fell in love with Richard. We had married seven years ago on base. It was shortly after our wedding that the abuse started.

Then there was my best friend whom I'd also met there, but I hadn't heard from him in about 12 years. After serving his time, he had retired from the army and took a job higher up in the government. Shortly after taking the new position I slowly heard from him less and less until it stopped all together. I had never tried to find him because I figured if he still cared about me he would have kept in touch.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts as I reached up and swiftly wiped the tear away that had snuck its way down my cheek. I hadn't thought about _him_, my best friend in almost two years, so it was strange that I had all of a sudden. Sighing, I closed my eyes and let myself fall into a light slumber.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	4. Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 4: Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

It had been 13 hours so far since I'd been able to work on the Fox River Eight case. All my calls to Mahone had been unsuccessful. I knew he'd refuse to answer until he felt I was healthy enough to be out in the field again. I had tried to stay up to date with the media reports on the major news stations, but those gave me nothing to go on. I was just as much in the dark as the rest of the American public not working the case. I didn't even have the pictures of Scofield's tattoos to keep my mind preoccupied.

After waking up at about 6:30 AM, I had spent the morning cooking a stuffed omelet and bacon breakfast, which had pleased my husband and saved my ass from a beating of a lifetime for missing supper two nights before. This relieved me more than anyone could imagine. Once Richard and I had finished eating, I had quickly cleaned up the kitchen and then proceeded to tidy up the rest of the house. Laundry was now done, the floors were vacuumed, and every surface had been wiped down with disinfectant wipes to rid them of dust and germs. Richard was a germaphobe and had a strict rule about wiping everything down on a daily basis.

I now sat at the bar-like counter in my kitchen, drumming my fingers on the counter, praying Agent Mahone would call me with even the smallest of an update. Not knowing was beginning to drive me to the point of insanity.

I glanced at the clock on the wall to my right. It was now 7:45 PM. Thirteen damn hours and nothing!

"Damn it, Alex! Call me!" I snapped under my breath, slamming my fist on the counter, hoping my words would trigger the phone to somehow magically ring. It didn't of course.

"Kassidy!"

I looked up and in the direction my name had come from. It was my husband. Groaning, I slowly stood up. "Coming!" I called.

I moved swiftly up the stairs and to the bedroom. When I entered, I saw my husband was sitting propped up against the headboard watching the news. The coverage was, not much to my surprise, the Fox River escape. I looked back at Richard, not wanting to hear anything about it.

"Make me a sandwich, will ya? I'm starving," he said in a commanding tone, his eyes never leaving the television screen in front of him.

"Turkey or roast beef?" I asked politely, trying desperately to withhold my building anger at the fact that'd he'd called me all the way upstairs to make him a goddamn sandwich.

Richard shot a look at me that said I should clearly all ready know what kind of sandwich he wanted.

"Roast beef with mustard. Got it," I said tightly and then moved out of the room again. I heard Richard crank up the volume on the television as I sulked down the stairs.

I headed to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out the things I needed. Turning around, I stood at the counter, and with difficultly I was attempting to open the mustard bottle. With my injured arm immobile within a sling, I was finding it rather impossible.

"God damn it!" I half yelled into the air, quiet enough so my husband wouldn't hear me. He'd have a fit. "That's it!" I pulled the sling up over my head and threw it onto the counter next to me.

Biting my lower lip, trying to concentrate on anything but the awful pain, I carefully lifted the mustard bottle with my afflicted arm and squeezed a small amount on the bread in front of me. Then I picked up the knife and quickly spread it evenly before placing two pieces of roast beef and then another slice of bread over the top of it. I easily cut the sandwich in two down the middle.

After placing everything back in its proper place in the refrigerator, I carefully lifted the plate containing the sandwich with my good arm and grabbed a bottle of beer with my other before heading back up stairs.

"Here you go, hun," I said, handing him both the plate and the beer.

Snorting, "You actually did something right for a change," he said with mock enthusiasm. "Now go away." He shooed me out of the room with his hand.

I obeyed, but found myself fighting the urge to smash his head into the wall a few times as anger seethed through me.

* * *

><p>I shot straight up in bed, my head snapping toward my bedside table where my phone was ringing shrilly. I thrust my hand out and grabbed it, quickly flipping it open. I had hoped it didn't wake my husband, but regretfully it had. He sat up in bed, the look on his face not pleasant.<p>

"Mahone, it's _one_ in the morning! What the hell!" I snapped, knowing that the argument with my husband that would follow this call wasn't going to end well.

"Scofield and Burrows are dead. Their car plummeted off a bridge on Illinois Route 38 yesterday," Alex said.

"What? You're certain?" I asked, shock plainly visible in my voice.

"Their blood was all over the wreck site. We have the lab running more tests for double confirmation, but as of now they are officially no longer our problem," Mr. Mahone informed me.

"Wow," I gasped, glancing at Richard. The glare on his face sent a shiver down my spine. "Any other leads on the other six runners?"

"Come in early tomorrow morning and I'll be happy to update you," my partner said kindly and then the line went dead.

I carefully returned my phone to my bedside table and turned back to my husband. He looked absolutely livid. His eyes burned with rage and I feared what was coming.

"What could possibly be so important to wake us at one o'clock in the fucking morning?" he growled through gritted teeth. I could hear his anger growing.

"Mahone needed to update me on the Fox River escape," I said truthfully.

A moment later I felt Richard's hand come in contact with my face with a hard smack, which jolted me. Though I knew it was coming, I gasped in pain as I fumbled quickly out of bed. I was a bit disoriented as I got to my feet and dashed for the bathroom.

I half stumbled, half ran into the tiny room and attempted to lock the door behind me, but Richard was too quick. He wedged his foot between the door and the wall. I tried frantically to push on it with all my weight in an effort to force his foot out, but it was a losing battle.

"Please!" I pleaded. "I'm sorry! Mahone didn't know! It won't happen again!" Tears were threatening to stream down my face, but I vigorously blinked them back.

"Open this door!" Richard roared and with one thrust of his body, the door slammed inward, throwing me backwards against the sink. I stared at him, terrified as he bound in on me. "When are you gonna learn who runs this house!" He grabbed a fistful of my long hair in one hand and my arm with the other as he proceeded to drag me back out of the bathroom.

Struggling to free myself from his harsh grasp, I screamed out in pain as I banged my severely injured shoulder into the wall. My legs gave way and I crumbled to the floor. Richard released me, but kicked me once hard in the leg. I yelped softly, trying to shield myself from any more afflictions.

"Stop, please!" I whispered hoarsely, desperation in my voice. "I've learned my lesson!"

Richard hovered over me for another few tense moments, but eventually stormed off downstairs.

I watched after him and once I was sure he was gone, I slowly rose from the floor with assistance of the wall. My legs shook as I once again entered the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I gazed into the mirror to see that a bruise was already forming on my right cheek.

_Damn it, _I thought as I tenderly caressed it with my fingers.

My mind raced as I tried to figure out how I was going to hide the black and blue mark from Alex and his team. Make-up wouldn't do it and sunglasses certainly weren't an option. The only other option now was to lie. I had become very good at that over the last few years as I found myself having to cover up my abuse problem from everyone around me in order to remain alive in this 'marriage', if you could even call it that. It was more like a trap where I was held against my will.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	5. One Down, Seven to Go

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 5: One Down, Seven to Go

I stood at the sink examining myself in the mirror. The thick layer of concealer painted on my face didn't even begin to cover the almost black bruise that graced my cheek. My damp hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and I wore jeans and a button down shirt in an effort to be as comfortable as possible.

My arm was once again secured in its sling and as I looked down at it in frustration, knowing it was going to influence my full potential on the job, my eyes caught the tiny diamond engagement ring and the wedding band that I wore on my left hand. I had a sudden urge to take them off and 'accidentally' wash them down the drain. I hated wearing them. I hated what they represented because my marriage didn't represent love or honesty or loyalty. Instead it represented power and control and brutality. The rings were only a metaphor of what should be, not what was. Taking one last look at myself, I sighed deeply as I exited the bathroom.

_It's now or never,_ I thought as I picked up my brown leather jacket and proceeded downstairs.

When I entered the living room, I found my husband sprawled on the couch, snoring softly. Five beer bottles lay on the floor beside him, which in this case was positive for me because it meant he was out cold and not even a blow horn could wake his smashed ass up.

I carefully bent down and gathered up all the bottles from the floor. I had decided I'd throw them away in the garbage can located just outside the bureau solely for the reason that I didn't want to waste time carrying them all the way to the kitchen.

As I pulled the front door open, I glanced back at my husband. I couldn't help but snigger at how ridiculous he looked lying there with his mouth gaping open. "This is the piece of shit I married? Wow, my taste has gone downhill over the years," I whispered to myself amusedly with a roll of my eyes.

* * *

><p>The five bottles in my hand hit the bottom of the can with a shatter. The breaking glass made me flinch slightly as I thought about an incident between Richard and me a few years back. Shaking my head, I erased the memory as I walked into the office.<p>

It was eerily quiet inside and I looked around for any signs of life. A moment later, I spotted Mahone in his office. He was sitting at his desk and it appeared he was staring at something intently. In long strides, I approached him, clearing my throat as I neared the doorway. He looked up, somewhat startled as he hastily closed what appeared to be a file before I had the chance to glance at it.

"What's that?" I asked curiously, looking from him to the folder.

Alex shoved it under a stack of papers on his desk. "Nothing. An old case," he replied quickly, standing up. "How are you feeling, Agent James?"

I smiled softly, but I couldn't brush off the feeling that there was something Agent Mahone wasn't telling me. I knew the symptoms of guilt. "Great. The arm should heal in no time," I replied, feeling sincerely confident that I would be up to full par in a matter of a couple of weeks, hopefully sooner.

"You think you're well enough to be out in the field?" Mahone questioned, uncertainty in his voice. He hadn't mentioned the bruise on my face, but I couldn't tell if he was just being polite or if he was waiting to interrogate me about it later.

"You said you had some updates for me?" I inquired, not waiting to test my bruise theories.

Alex nodded curtly as he leaned against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. "Yesterday we confiscated a backpack belonging to the brothers. Inside were two fake passports, two cell phones, two prepaid phone cards, a gold watch, and a sum of cash."

"How'd you manage that one?" I asked.

"Agent Wheeler apprehended a homeless man fleeing the scene with the bag. The man claims he stole it looking for clothes. We brought him in for questioning and given the state he was in his story seemed legit," Mr. Mahone explained.

I nodded, taking in everything he was telling me. "What about the other six?"

"Fernando Sucre stole a car in Defiance, Ohio. He was later pulled over by an officer outside of Latrobe, Pennsylvania, but he evaded capture. We aren't sure how yet, but I've got men looking into it," Alex answered. "Oh, and," he added, shifting in on his feet. "Franklin called his wife from a payphone in downtown Chicago and we believe he's going to meet her at a restaurant in New York City called the Rainbow Room a week from yesterday." The look on his face was that of a determined man, but I could see the slight smugness in his expression as well. He believed with every ounce of his being that he was going to capture these convicts.

I, on the other hand, wasn't so confident. It'd been three days since the escape and so far we only had a few relevant tips from the hotline we'd set up and some close personal encounters. Not even one of the eight men had been captured, and in my eyes that didn't look good. The FBI was falling short of their reputation. Don't get me wrong, I understand Agent Mahone is one of the best, but this case seemed to be getting to him. He'd been acting strange since it started, and though he didn't think anyone noticed, I knew full well that everyone had.

The short silence was broken when Agent Wheeler walked into the office behind me. He carried a thin file in his hand. "The dredging of the river beneath Scofield's apartment bore some fruit," he said, throwing the file onto the desk Mahone was once again seated behind. "Found a hard drive under the river bed. Serial numbers match an order that Scofield put in with Dell a few months before he was incarcerated."

I stepped further into the tiny office and positioned myself behind Alex. The paper in his hand looked to be a copy of an old newspaper clipping about the D.B. Cooper heist. "How much of the data have you recovered?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the papers. Alex and I were now looking at an article from a few years ago about Dr. Sara Tancredi winning some kind of humanitarian award for her efforts.

"They've recovered about 12% of the data so far," Wheeler said.

I glanced at Agent Mahone who was still staring at the article in silence. "Alex?"

He didn't acknowledge me as he flipped to yet another article, this one about Mob Boss, John Abruzzi, and then quickly rose from his seat and headed out to the main room. It was then that I realized the office was now buzzing with agents running back and forth in frenzy. We had all hands on deck for this case.

"Alex?" I repeated as he rounded his way to a board and pinned the piece of paper to it with a paperclip. I was beginning to get frustrated at being ignored. I wanted to know what the man was thinking.

Agent Wheeler came to stand beside me, his hands on his hips in an authoritative manner. "And this is helping us how?" he asked in confusion.

But before Alex had a time to respond, Agent Lang interrupted our group.

"Blood tests came back," she announced in a satisfied manner. "B negative all over that crash site." The smile on her face depicted a bout of victory that even I had to admit I was feeling. Two less convicts meant two less problems to deal with. "Scofield and Burrows both…"

"B negative, I know," Mahone interrupted agitatedly, his eyes still solely focused on that same damn article. I could see the wheels in his head spinning, but what exactly he was conjuring I couldn't place.

Lang glanced at me with a small smile. "I'll reach out to the media."

"How about don't," Mahone replied, his tone suggesting his temper might blow at any second as he finally turned to look at the three of us. He was clearly on edge with this Fox River case. "If it gets out that the guy who…" He laughed in a frustrated tone as he pointed vaguely at Scofield's mug shot. "...who masterminded this whole thing is possibly dead, the other six cons are gonna get their guards up even more," he explained, his frustration building with each passing second. I was a bit nervous watching him, wondering what he may do or say next. Turning to the whole room, "It is our policy…excuse me, it is our policy…" he slammed his hand into the board behind him, finally successfully gaining everyone's attention. I jumped slightly when he did this as I thought of Richard. "…_not_ to announce deaths until they are confirmed."

I followed behind Agents Lang and Wheeler as we trailed behind Mr. Mahone who was now headed back to his private office. Mahone and Lang were in some kind of disagreement, but I didn't catch what as my thoughts were stuck on Mahone's behavior. He seemed to be losing it. The way he'd slapped that board, I could tell something other than this case was pushing him to his limit.

"James, in my office!" he snapped at me suddenly.

I shot my gaze up to meet his. "Yes, sir," I said as I stepped in behind him and closed the door.

Awkward silence filled the room as I took a seat in one of the chairs facing his desk. I felt like a student in the principal's office.

Alex sat down and placed his glasses in the breast pocket of his suit as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes met mine with a look of concern. "Mind telling me about that nasty bruise on your face?"

_Shit! _I thought as a surge of panic coursed through my insides and I struggled to keep a neutral look about me.

I didn't want to draw attention to the fact that I was panicking. I knew that certain body language was a dead giveaway, plus, Alex was incredibly intelligent. He'd pick up on it at the drop of a pin if I let anything slip. "I blacked out yesterday. My husband was out picking up milk when it happened. I wasn't aware of anything until he came home and found me face down on the floor. We called a doctor to the home who believes the blackout was triggered by the intense pain I've been experiencing from the gunshot," the lie rolled off my tongue smoothly as it came to me on a whim.

Mr. Mahone continued to eye me for another few moments before nodding, but something told me he didn't quite believe my story. "I'll be keeping a close eye on you, especially when in the field. You'll tell me if any issues crop up?"

I nodded and let the breath out I had been holding for the past five minutes. It was a wonder my face hadn't turned blue from lack of oxygen.

"Good," he said, satisfied.

* * *

><p>"Where is he?" Mahone demanded for the umpteenth time, slamming his fists on the table in front of him as he leaned in close to the Italian man's face before him. Again, the man didn't answer. His continual silence surrounded us once more.<p>

I stood behind my partner, watching the escalating scene unfold. We had been asking the same question over and over again for the past hour. Alex had been able to track down one of Abruzzi's gang members for questioning of where the mobster was. So far though, we had been unable to crack him.

"Mahone?" I said softly.

He turned around at once. "What?" he snapped.

I flinched slightly, hesitating for a moment. "Uh…let me try a different tactic."

Agent Mahone continued to stare at me for a few incredibly tense seconds as if deciding whether he should step aside or not, but finally and reluctantly, he allowed me to take the hot seat. "It's all yours, James," he said, stepping out of the room. I figured he needed to clear his head. Mine was spinning from just watching him.

"Mr. Berceto," I started as I took a seat in the chair across the table from the suspect. "Are you aware what the punishment is for illegal immigrants?"

"What?" Berceto asked coolly, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Prison," I said smugly as I watched his cool demeanor diminish in a second with that word. Leaning back into my chair, I crossed my legs. "You're also currently facing a RICO wrap for illegal smuggling of marijuana into the United States."

"P-prison?" he stuttered. I nodded. "Can we make a deal?" he pleaded suddenly, his voice lined with desperation.

Shrugging, "Depends on how much you cooperate," I said.

"Anything!" he blurted. "I'll give you anything you need! Just please, don't send me to prison! They'll murder me there!"

I sat calmly across the table watching him as I tried to conceal a smile that was attempting to stretch across my lips. Only minutes ago Mr. Berceto had been unwilling to give us any information, but one mention of the word _prison_ and he was ready to spill answers like an internet search engine.

"Where is John Abruzzi?" I asked. I hoped it was the final time I'd be asking this damn question.

Berceto didn't hesitate. "New Jersey! I don't know where though! He just said he was in New Jersey with his family!"

"Thank you, Mr. Berceto," I said as I stood up.

"Wait…what about our deal?" he shouted after me.

However, I ignored him as I swiftly exited the room to talk to Mr. Mahone. After trying to crack the man for an hour, I knew Alex was going to be relieved to finally have the information he'd been wanting. "We have him," I said as I entered his office.

"Where?" Agent Mahone asked, looking up at me. Another copy of the article about Abruzzi that he'd pinned to the board earlier lay in his hands.

"New Jersey," I informed him.

"I have an idea," Alex said, picking up the corded phone on his desk as he dialed a number.

* * *

><p>Our army of agents, police, and SWAT waited impatiently across the street for any sign of Abruzzi. Mahone had set up a rather elaborate, yet genius plan to capture the Italian mob boss. A few quick phone calls and we were in motion.<p>

I sat in the backseat staring intently out the window. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest as my eyes scanned the entrance to the Globe Motel. Glancing at my watch, "He should be here any time now," I said, and as if my words had magical powers, a black car pulled into the motel's parking lot.

"That's him," Alex said from the front passenger seat as he lifted a walkie talkie to his mouth. "Everybody in position. Our target has arrived," he spoke clearly into the radio.

"In position, sir," a man's deep voice confirmed.

"I'll give the orders when to move in," Mr. Mahone replied, then quickly turned his attention back to the car that had driven Abruzzi right into our trap.

I had been watching anxiously out my window the whole time as Abruzzi stepped from the car and entered the motel with a gun pointed out in front of him. He'd just walked through the door and I knew it was time to intercept.

"_Now!_" Alex said sharply into his talkie as our SUV followed by a whole squad raced into the parking lot and came to a screeching halt, surrounding room 116.

Immediately my partner and I climbed out of the vehicle and took cover behind the black car that Abruzzi had arrived in. Beside me were two officers with riffles aimed at the partly open door in front of us.

Agent Mahone was the first to speak. "If you're looking for the rat, John, Fibonacci is 2000 miles from here," he said loudly.

A short bout of silence followed as Mahone and I stood waiting for John to respond. I was as curious as everyone else about his reaction to being trapped.

"Who are you? Local cops or feds?" John asked suddenly. I could tell he was right inside the door.

The men with the riffles stiffened as they prepared to shoot if he threatened any sort of violence.

"Feds, John, we only roll out the best for a man of your stature," Alex replied sarcastically. I smirked slightly.

Another gap of tense quiet fell before anybody spoke again, and I assumed John was probably mulling over what to say or ask next.

"I deserve to know who turned on me. Tell me?" John said, a hint of anger in his voice at being betrayed again.

Agent Mahone rocked on his feet a bit. "The man was facing a RICO wrap." He paused for a second. "He did not want to go to prison," he added. There was a slight chuckle in his voice as he said this. "I'm sure you can appreciate that knowing what you know about the place now." He paused again. "Whatever you're thinking about doing, John, don't."

I stood silently watching the intense situation, my stomach now in my throat. I was well aware that at any minute John could come bounding out of that door with his gun and the thought of being shot again scared me.

"You are going back to Fox River today or the morgue. That's your call," Mahone declared with no emotion when John didn't respond.

"I'm coming out," John announced. He'd finally given in to us, or so I thought.

"Weapons come out first, John," Mr. Mahone asserted as we waited for him to step out into our line of sight.

"Yeah, I'm coming out," John said again, his voice weak with defeat.

Alex and I glanced at each other as John slowly made his way out the door and toward our throng of officers.

"Easy, John, easy," Agent Mahone said, turning back to the large man.

"He's got a weapon, right hand!" shouted an officer as several men clicked off their safety triggers.

Mahone and Abruzzi locked eyes as Mahone spoke again. "These are serious men here. They have instructions to shoot at the first sign of aggression. Please, I'm asking you respectfully. Drop the weapon, kneel, and put your hands on your head."

Abruzzi's face hardened as he continued to stare Alex down. "I kneel only to God," he said tensely as his eyes then looked around as if searching for his savior. "I don't see him here." He smirked slightly.

My heart began to race, if possible, more as I glanced at Alex whose face had gone stone cold serious. The look upon his features was that of pure challenge. I knew he was going to bring John Abruzzi in, alive or dead. At this point he didn't care which way. That was up to John.

Not a moment later, John made his choice as he raised his weapon in our direction.

"Guuuuun!" my partner yelled as guns sprang to life all around us. He grabbed me, shielding me with his body as he pulled me down behind the car for protection.

Not prepared to be grabbed so forcefully, I lost my footing and toppled to the ground, smashing my injured shoulder into the pavement. Alex went down too, almost falling on top of me, but he caught himself with his hands just before he landed on me. I grabbed my shoulder in searing agony as I scrunched my eyes shut. The pain kept worsening with each passing second. My head was beginning to spin and I couldn't make out what Alex was shouting at me as my mind became garbled. I couldn't concentrate on anything, and then suddenly a scream I had been trying to hold in emitted from my throat that could have shattered the windows near us.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	6. Revelations

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 6: Revelations

I slowly pulled myself into a sitting position and looked around me. I was in Alex Mahone's office. He stood outside the closed door talking to Agent Felicia Lang about something I couldn't hear through the glass. Groaning, I reached for my throbbing shoulder and rubbed my hand up and down it in an effort to sooth the pain. I couldn't exactly remember what had happened and intended to ask Mahone as soon as he was finished with what looked to be a rather intense conversation.

I zoned out as I gazed tiredly about the room. My thoughts were of no particular meaning. This bit of quiet didn't last long though because my phone broke my trance. I fumbled in my front pocket to reach it. When I pulled it out to look at the I.D., my stomach suddenly felt like lead. It was _him_. It was my husband.

"H-hello," I stammered, slightly fearful. Things were about to get ugly.

"Where have you been?" Richard yelled down the line. "When I woke up yesterday morning you were gone, and when I woke up this morning you were _still _gone!"

Standing up, I began to pace in front of the sofa I had been sitting on. "Some things happened at work that were beyond my control," I said calmly.

"You're sleeping with him, aren't you, that man you're working with?" Richard accused suddenly, causing my mouth to fall open in shock.

I shook my head as I tried to process what I'd just heard. It was utterly disgusting that he had even suggested such a thing. Sleeping with my boss was the last thing I'd ever do. "How dare you!" I hissed, glancing in the direction of the door to make sure Agent Mahone was still distracted. He was thankfully. "You know I'd never do that! You know full well that this job requires me away from home for days at a time! I've been up working through the night trying to catch these cons, while you get drunk and pass out for hours!" My tone was acidy as the words fumbled from my mouth in anger before I could really comprehend just exactly what I was saying.

There was an abrupt silence on Richard's end and I figured he was attempting to process that I had just mouthed off to him in such a way. I knew this was the worst thing I could do, especially when he was already good and pissed off, but lately I had been finding it hard to hold my tongue as the shield I had put up for so many years was being slowly degraded by his unending abuse.

Another minute of silence passed between us and I was beginning to think I had rendered him speechless. No such luck though.

"You have to come home sometime," he said, his voice menacing.

I shivered as I prepared to say something else, but the line disconnected. He had hung up on me. For some reason, as angry as I knew he was, this relieved me because I knew another minute and I'd only have antagonized him more. Me and my damn mouth lately!

Mentally slapping myself, I closed my phone and returned it to my pocket with a quick shove as the door to Mahone's office opened and he entered looking rather frazzled and somewhat satisfied.

"You look like hell," he said, his eyes roaming over my exhausted figure. I could spot a bit of concern in them, which to be honest, surprised me as this man was a master at suppressing his emotions.

Smiling faintly, "You sure have a way with the ladies," I said amusedly.

Mahone smirked at this, but almost immediately his face returned to its harsh, serious expression. "I've reassigned you," he said suddenly.

My stomach turned abruptly because I just knew he had put me on desk duty. It couldn't be anything else considering the recent event that followed our successful takedown of Abruzzi.

"You'll be confined to your desk until I state otherwise," he confirmed my suspicions.

"But…-," I began to protest, but Mahone silenced me with his hand. I hated when he did that!

"I'll discuss this no more. You will be on desk duty, do you understand?" he asserted, his eyes locked on mine. It was almost as if we were having an extremely intense staring contest.

It took everything I had to swallow the lump in my throat and the anger that was rising within me. "Yeah," I finally answered, my tone a dead giveaway of my lividness. I had a sudden childish urge to stomp on his foot.

Taking a seat in the chair behind his desk, he picked up a stack of papers. "Sixty percent of Scofield's hard drive has been recovered so far," he informed me. "Your job is to help me sort through everything to see if we can find anything to give us a clue as to what his plans are." He held out the papers in my direction.

I approached him and silently took the papers before exiting his office. I was still angry, but it was beginning to simmer down as I entered my office and sat down at my desk. Dropping the papers in front of me, I opened the drawer to my left and retrieved some much needed aspirin.

* * *

><p>My eyes ached as I sat hunched over, reading through article after article for about the hundredth time. I swore I'd have these memorized before I was done. It was grueling work and so far nothing that I didn't already know popped out at me. Of course, why Scofield had searched some of this information both confused and interested me, but it wasn't exactly a case breaker.<p>

Sighing in agitation, I threw the article on D.B. Cooper in my hand down onto my desk and fell back into my seat. Exhausted, I propped myself up on the arm of my chair as I blinked a couple of times and then peered out the front window of my office. Mahone sat staring at his laptop computer, fidgeting in frustration, but even with his back to me, I could clearly tell that frustration wasn't his only problem. Something else was eating at him.

I continued to watch him with interest as he glanced up at the map to the left of him, which we used to keep track of where the cons where sighted. It looked as if he had figured something out. However, I didn't move from my stationary position. I wanted to study him for a bit to see if he did anything to clue me in on his bizarre behavior. I was determined to find out what he was hiding.

After placing another pin in the map, he suddenly made an erratic move towards his jacket pocket. He seemed to be looking for something.

Leaning forward, I squinted in an effort to get a better look. What I saw baffled me as he extracted a pen from inside his jacket and began to unscrew it. He looked around quickly to make sure nobody was watching and then hastily tapped it in his hand and on the desk. My face contorted with confusion. It seemed the more my curiosity got to me, the more weird behavior I witnessed from him. This made me even more curious and also slightly unnerved as I found myself beginning to wonder if my boss was capable of this job.

* * *

><p>"Okay, we've got a confirmed sighting on Franklin," Agent Wheeler said as he hung up the phone and approached Mahone and I. "Jumped out of a moving train in Preston, Idaho."<p>

My boss had been reading over another article on his computer while I stood studying the U.S. map in front of me.

"What is a black man from Chicago doing in Idaho?" Lang asked the question we'd all been wondering ourselves. I turned to look at her as she glanced at Wheeler. "He must be lost," she added as her gaze averted back to me.

"It doesn't make…-," I began to say, but Mahone interrupted me. I craned my neck to look at him.

Pointing at the map, "Franklin's in Preston, Idaho, Bagwell's in Nebraska, and both men have never been across the Mississippi," he informed us. "Visiting friends and family? I don't think so." He laughed in a slightly amused manner and glanced at us as he tapped on the bottom of the map where Mexico was. "And not south of the border."

"Ah ha!" I exclaimed before he could continue. My thoughts were on one man only. Agents Wheeler and Lang turned to look at me, their faces strewn with question at my sudden outburst.

"What is it?" Mahone asked, seemingly just as curious.

"D.B. Cooper," I replied.

Mahone's eyes widened as his thoughts suddenly matched mine. "Get me everything you can on the Cooper case."

* * *

><p>It was a go, we were bound for Utah or rather Mahone was bound for Utah. My inkling on D.B. Cooper had been right and we had figured out what the cons were up to. They were headed west in search of the money D.B. Cooper had stashed before his arrest.<p>

I sat once again in my office, reading over every Cooper article I could get my hands on. I had endlessly search the internet for anything we might not have had printed already and came up with two unseen articles. One of them had cracked the case much to my shock.

I looked up from my task when I noticed Mahone get up out of the corner of my eye. Suddenly curious again, I stood up and silently slipped out of my office as he exited the building. Glancing around me to double check that I wasn't noticed, I slipped into Mahone's office, closing the door partly behind me. I made quickly for the window and peaked through the shades to see if I could see Mahone and figure out what he was up to. What I saw made my face go white.

"Drugs," I whispered breathlessly as I watched the whole exchange between him and a young kid I didn't recognize in what could only be described as horror. I couldn't believe it! He was a drug addict.

My stomach twisted again as he slapped money against the kid's chest and hastened back into the building. Suddenly his odd behavior made sense. He'd been having withdrawals from whatever it was that he was on.

Regathering myself, I swiftly reentered the main room of the bureau not a second too late as he bound in a moment later. I wanted to confront him right then, but fought the urge. I knew it'd only create conflict, which I didn't need any more of in my life. I would eventually corner him about it, but right now I needed to try to understand why he was taking the pills before I stuck my foot in my mouth. Maybe there was a perfectly logical explanation.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	7. Diversion

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 7: Diversion

_Flashback: 18 years ago – 1987_

_It was long after dark as I trekked across the campus of West Point Academy. I had just finished studying in the library about several battle strategies used in World War II and now all I wanted to do was sleep as my heavy eyes were becoming almost impossible to keep open._

_Stopping mid-stride, I stretched my cramped muscles and rubbed my tired eyes. My whole body ached from lack of sleep. I always seemed to be the first person up at dawn and the last to bed. It wasn't unsual for my studies to interfere with my sleep and the whole school knew it. I was the nerd of the senior year class. Not that I minded. I had always put my schoolwork over anything like partying, drinking, causing chaos, or any other ridiculous activities young adults seemed to find themselves participating in._

_When I finally began to move again a sudden shiver stopped me for a second time. I hadn't realized how cold it was outside and I unfortunately had no sweater with me. I was sure to get a cold. Just what I needed with all of the classes I was taking. Playing catch up was never fun. Damn New York and its bitterly cold winters._

"_You shouldn't be out here this time of night by yourself, Miss," a deep man's voice said from behind me._

_Startled, I spun around nearly slipping on the frost beneath my feet. I was able to catch myself luckily, but my books weren't as lucky as they went tumbling to the slushy, wet ground. "You scared me, Sir," I said breathlessly as I hastily collected my books and stood again. I was completely embarrassed by my little clumsy moment and I was entirely positive it was plainly visible on my face._

_The man chuckled. "Sorry about that."_

_I smiled as a blush crossed my skin. I had seen this man many times. He was the war history teacher at the academy. I had never been apart of one of his classes, but all of the girls on campus swooned about him, mostly about how good-looking he was. I, myself, found him slightly attractive, but had never really paid attention. I was always too busy. Now, however, I found I was barely able to utter a word in his presence without sounding like a childish girl. Damn embarrassing, it was!_

"_Mind if I walk with you?" he asked._

"_Sure," I said shyly. I suddenly wanted to kick myself. I had always vowed to never let a guy bring out my girlish qualities and here I was doing just that._

_We walked in silence the rest of the way. This was a relief for me because I had nothing intelligent to say to this man. I felt as if I shouldn't even be talking to him. I was nothing but a lowly academy student. He was a colonel, soon to be bumped up in rank again._

"_Well…uh…thank you…uh," I stammered as we approached my dorm. I was freezing._

"_Richard," he said, extending his hand. He looked cold, too._

"_Thank you, Richard," I said with a smile before quickly disappearing into the building. Once inside the door, I fell against the wall, appalled at being so unprofessional. How was it one guy could make me fall apart?_

_End of Flashback_

This was the first time Richard and I met. He had been so charming. Now, he was nothing of the man I had believed he was. Hell, he wasn't even a man! He was a coward and I was his punching bag.

* * *

><p>"Anything from Alex yet?" I asked as Wheeler popped into my office to hand me more information confiscated off Scofield's hard drive. I was getting damn tired of reading through all of it, but I knew it was necessary to help us determine the cons' next plan. We needed to figure out what they were up to before they succeeded in finding the money. However, I doubted their success now that Alex was on his way. He was sure to find them this time. He had to, because the further they got, the more ridiculous the FBI looked.<p>

"No," Agent Wheeler replied. "But I'll let you know as soon as word comes."

I nodded. "Thank you."

Wheeler nodded in return and then curtly left my office.

I watched him go as my thoughts once again consumed me. All I seemed to do anymore was think, but this time it had nothing to do with my husband; this time it was a plan.

My phone once again interrupted my thoughts. Damn, this was happening way too much for my liking.

I quickly pulled it from the breast pocket of my shirt and looked at it. This time it wasn't a call; it was a text from Alex. I sighed, still really irritated that he hadn't let me go with him. I loathed desk duty.

Opening the text, I read: _Landed safely in Utah. I'll keep you up to date hourly. You're in charge while I'm gone. -Mahone _

I closed the phone and sighed. I was in charge. For some reason this just didn't feel right. I was the newbie in this office. I mean I understood why Mahone did it. I was CIA and I was better qualified than anybody to lead this case, but it still felt wrong.

* * *

><p>"Wheeler, did you ask Mahone about the sighting on Patoshik?" I questioned as I entered the main room.<p>

He turned to look at me. "Yes, he said hand it over to local authorities. He's interested in nothing but Utah and D.B Cooper."

I sighed, not completely happy with this decision, but decided to let it be. "All right," I said. Then I turned around to face the room. "I just received a text from Mahone. He's planning hourly updates," I informed them. They all silenced and turned their attention on me. "He's decided to put me in charge while he's gone, but I'm putting Wheeler in charge of this office."

"Agent James?" Wheeler asked. I could tell he was confused at my appointing him the boss.

I waved him into my office. We both entered and I closed the door behind us. "I have to go home. It's my husband," I explained vaguely. "I know it's not the best time, but I trust your judgment with this case. I've seen you in action."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Nodding, "Yes," I replied. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Wheeler nodded and then graciously opened the door for me. I smiled in thanks and quickly grabbed my phone, jacket, and bag before swiftly exiting the office.

I wasn't going home. I had never intended on going home. I couldn't go home or I'd never get out of there again without alerting Richard. He'd stop me and my whole plan would be in shambles. It was either now or never with just the clothes on my back.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	8. Risky Tactics

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 8: Risky Tactics

"Passengers, please take your seats and buckle your seatbelts. We will be landing in Salt Lake City in approximately 15 minutes. Thank you," the announcement sounded over the intercom.

_Finally, _I thought.

The three-hour flight had been grueling, mostly due to my anxiousness. What I was doing was a strict violation of Mahone's orders. However, my irrationality drowned out my rationality. I needed to know what my partner was up to and the only way I could figure that out was by shadowing him.

The next 15 minutes seemed to be the longest yet. I sat with my hands gripping the seat so hard that my fingers were beginning to hurt. To be truly honest, I hated flying. I had always hated it. But the worst part for me was the landing. It scared me.

I closed my eyes as the plane's wheels made first contact with the ground. It was bumpy as they hit, then bounced, then hit again. This continued for several seconds. My heart raced with anxiety.

_It's almost over. It's almost over. Breathe! _I thought to myself, trying to relax a bit. Every muscle in my body felt like lead.

Then just like that it was over. The plane came to a halt on the runway. Still though, I couldn't open my eyes. My body was still on high alert. I couldn't contain the panic within me.

"Are you okay, Miss?" a flight attendant asked.

Swallowing hard, I forced my eyes open. "Yeah," I said weakly, though I was sure my face gave away my fears. The color had drained from it a long time ago.

Her expression didn't change from its bout of concern. "Are you sure?"

This time I just nodded as I struggled to breathe normally again. She smiled and then made her way toward the front of the plane to open the exit door.

People began standing and stretching. They pulled their luggage from above their heads and started filing out. Some people looked exhausted, while others looked bored, and still others smiled with joy. I was probably the only one on the plane deceiving my boss.

* * *

><p>"And what is it you need, Agent Hill?" a detective in an all too familiar black suit asked.<p>

My plan had worked. I had been able to get exactly what I needed by flashing my badge and giving a false name (well, my mother's maiden name). "Can you tell me where Agent Mahone is?" I questioned.

"He's currently at the Tooele, Utah Police Department questioning a fugitive," the agent replied.

Nodding curtly, "Thank you," I said as I exited briskly.

It was time to put this plan into action. I was going under the radar, which was something I was used to doing working for the CIA. I had done this a thousand times, only normally I was tracking suspected terrorists.

My phone began to vibe as I approached my car. I pulled it from my jean pocket and looked at the screen. I had three unread text messages from Alex.

_Wheeler informed me of your absence due to personal issues. I will continue to update you at home as more information becomes available. –Mahone_

_The local authorities and I apprehended Apolskis in Tooele, Utah. –Mahone_

_Apolskis is currently detained with local police. We're questioning him about the location of the others. I shall call you as soon as I know anything. –Mahone_

* * *

><p>It seemed like an eternity that I had been waiting for Mahone to leave the station. I sat in my car, bouncing my leg with anxiety. I knew if I was caught doing this I could lose my job and reputation. That was my biggest fear, mostly because I'd have no reason to be away from home, which meant I'd have to spend more time with Richard. A shiver ran down my spine with the idea of this happening. I understood, however, that it was a very real scenario in this situation. I was willing to risk it, though, if it meant uncovering one of Mahone's secrets. I needed the truth and I knew I'd never get it directly from his mouth. This was the only way.<p>

Suddenly, the door out front of the building opened. I perked up as I squinted in the bright sunlight to see who it was. The first person to emerge was young David Apolskis. That's when I knew Mahone would be following.

I continued to watch as the two of them made their way to Mahone's SUV. He pushed Apolskis into the backseat and then he climbed into the driver's seat and tore off down the road.

Quickly starting my engine, I peeled after him. He had a head start and I needed to catch up before I lost him. It didn't take long before I saw the back end of his truck about a mile up the road. I planned on staying about half a mile behind him so nothing looked suspicious.

We drove through the small town of Tooele and entered a subdivision. It reminded me of one you'd see in movies where every yard was perfectly green and each house looked the same.

I parked my car about three houses away from the one Mahone was parked in front of and watched with anticipation as Apolskis stepped out of the SUV and made his way up the walk toward the front door of the house.

He looked nervous as he neared the front steps. Even from my distance I could see the sweat on him. I knew Mahone was hoping Apolskis would lead him to the other cons. They were all here to get D.B. Cooper's money. It was an incredibly stupid idea in my opinion to risk your escape for money, but this was five million dollars. Nobody in his or her right mind could pass that up.

The kid looked back once before ringing the doorbell. He was beyond nervous and I didn't blame him. He was about to betray guys that trusted him.

But when the door finally opened, it wasn't any of the cons that stepped out, it was a young girl with short, cropped hair around Apolskis' age. He began telling her something that I couldn't hear, but a whole SWAT team surrounded him as he talked to her.

I sighed and fell back into my seat. I was beginning to think coming down here was a waste. Mahone was doing nothing more out of the ordinary.

* * *

><p>Things had suddenly got strange again as I found myself parked in the woods on some back dirt road. Mahone had stopped his vehicle here and climbed out. I silently opened my car door and slid out. Ducking down, I crept closer to where Apolskis stood next to the truck. I was now close enough to see what was going on. I couldn't get close enough to hear what was being said though. I could only make out murmurs and every so often I'd catch a word. Alex sounded like he was saying something serious.<p>

Then without warning, he pulled his gun out and aimed it at the young teenager. My eyes widened in horror. Was he really going to shoot the kid? He couldn't!

I wanted to run forward and scream, "Stop," but every muscle in me had frozen. I couldn't move. My throat was as dry as the desert that surrounded me.

"Alex…," I tried to call out, but my voice was no more than a whisper. I was paralyzed with fear.

A moment later, the gunshots I had been terrified of rang through the deserted woods. Nobody would ever hear them except me. I was the only witness, but I was useless. I hadn't stopped him and now it was too late.

Collapsing onto the ground behind me, every emotion known to man began to course through my body. I was at a loss about what I just saw. My boss, a man I trusted, had just murdered a boy in cold blood.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	9. Doubts & Lies

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 9: Doubts & Lies

Suddenly, my job didn't make sense anymore. I was here to keep innocent people safe and prosecute those who wronged society. But I had failed to save 19-year-old David Apolskis. Yes, he wasn't completely innocent by standards, but the moment Alex has aimed that gun at him, he had become an innocent, unarmed bystander. I had failed both him and my job.

I sat in a booth inside a small café on Tooele's main street. I was questioning everything about myself, my job, and even my life. I didn't know what else to do as the sound of Agent Mahone's gunshots kept ringing through my mind.

Leaning my head against the window, rage began to build within me. Alexander Mahone didn't deserve to be called an agent, the murdering son-of-a-bitch! He deserved to be rotting in a prison cell with the rest of the lowlife scumbags.

I had half a mind to approach him face to face and tell him what I witnessed, but I figured this wouldn't end well in my favor. Yes, I needed to turn him in, but I also needed to go about it safely and anonymously. Unfortunately though, I was at a complete loss at how to do this.

_This just in, Lincoln Burrows Jr., the son of convicted murder and escaped convict, Lincoln Burrows will be released from Klipton Detention Center in Arizona tomorrow where he's been held since being convicted of murdering his mother and stepfather. All charges against him have been dropped._

All of a sudden my thoughts weren't on Mahone anymore. I was now focused on LJ. If he was being released tomorrow, he'd have nowhere to go. I'd witnessed people being released from custody before and they normally just dropped them off on the side of the street somewhere in the nearest town. Right then, my plans changed as I slid out of the booth and hastened to my car.

The next eight hours were going to be long ones.

* * *

><p>The highway stretched into a never ending horizon as I sped along it at 75 mph. I was in no doubt a hurry. LJ was my top priority at the moment. Of course, Alex still lingered in the back of my mind, but I couldn't focus on that right now. LJ needed my help and I had already promised him things would be okay. So far I hadn't exactly kept that promise, though.<p>

It was then that my blasted phone rang. I picked it up from the passenger seat. When I glanced at the screen, my stomach was instantly in my throat. It was Mahone.

"Whattya got?" I asked like I was doing nothing out of the ordinary. I prayed he wouldn't notice the slight hesitation in my voice.

"Apolskis shot himself in an attempt to flee custody," Alex lied.

I swallowed hard to keep from screaming, 'You lying asshole' at him. "Well, that's two down." My face was flushed with anger and something of fear. What if he found out I knew what he'd done and came after me?

"Where are you?" Alex asked. "I'll be flying out of Utah momentarily."

"Continuing my work from home, sir," I lied, my teeth still gritted in fury. I suddenly hated everything about this man and the last thing I wanted to be doing was talking to him. The sick bastard had horrible timing.

"I'll stop by later tonight…-" Mahone began.

"_No!_" I practically shouted. "I mean…uh…my husband wants no disturbances." I shifted uncomfortably.

_Smooth, James, very smooth, _I thought, mentally kicking myself for such a dumb outburst.

There was momentary silence on the other end and I heard Mr. Mahone sigh. "Is he assaulting you?"

"What?" I said, dumbfounded.

"You heard me, James," Alex said impatiently.

"Are you crazy?" I said as if I was appalled he'd even suggest such a thing. "My husband would never lay a hand on me."

"Don't you lie to me, James!" Mahone's voice has risen drastically.

Oh, this coming from the liar himself. Who was he to accuse me of lying when he'd just blatantly lied to my face? I wanted so much to say this, but again, I bit down hard on my tongue.

"Stay out of this, Mahone. It's not of _your_ concern," I hissed, then quickly hung up the phone before he had a chance to argue anymore.

Steaming with anger at my idiocy, I literally chucked my phone onto the dashboard and cursed under my breath. Mahone was onto me now and how I was going to get him off it I didn't know. Maybe I could blackmail him? No, that wasn't a good idea. The only ammunition I had against him was his murder of Apolskis and I wasn't about to disclose that right to the man's face. Plus, I wasn't Alex. I didn't harm people to get what I wanted.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	10. Arizona

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 10: Arizona

The last eight hours in the car had been long and unending, but I was finally pulling into Kingman, Arizona. LJ was to be released soon. It was the early morning and I decided to swing into a gas station and fill up again.

Parking the car, I grabbed the nozzle and pumped it full. It was blistering hot in the desert sun. Today was not a good day to wear long sleeves.

As I walked into the gas station, I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows, too hot at this point to care about whether my many bruises showed. My thoughts were both on LJ and Alex. I had two dilemmas and not near enough solutions. First though, LJ.

"That'll be $36.86," the cashier said as I stepped up to the counter.

I watched her as she made out my change. She had long, brown hair pulled into a ponytail and was donning a rather skimpy tank top. If the shirt was any tighter her boobs would pop out. I grimaced inwardly. Why people wanted to dress that way I couldn't comprehend. "Thank you," I said as she handed me the bills.

She smiled cheerfully, though I could see her eyes glancing worriedly upon my bruised arms. "You're very welcome. Have a wonderful day."

I smiled back faintly, nodded, and pushed my way back out the door. I wasn't hungry. My stomach was in knots. So I decided to head over to the prison to find out when and where LJ was to be dropped off.

* * *

><p>The penitentiary sat about 20 minutes outside of Kingman surrounded on all sides by miles of desert. The look of it in the distance reminded me of Alcatraz in way. This place was inescapable without at least a canteen of water.<p>

Speeding up the long dirt road leading to the main entrance, I parked my car in the sandy lot and climbed out. The walls of the prison loomed over me like a giant desert monster.

I strolled up to the front gate and a loud buzzer sounded as it opened. "Agent Hill, here to see LJ Burrows."

There was a loud cackle from what sounded like a radio. "Come to the main door. A guard will escort you from there."

"Thanks," I said and hurried to the entrance the man had been referring to.

"Agent Hill, I presume?" the guard asked as I stepped inside.

Nodding, "Yes," I replied.

He immediately led me forward. We followed several hallways until we came to a gated room. I noticed the inside of the prison was much nicer than the outside. They had definitely done some remodeling recently.

"Burrows will be here shortly," the guard grunted.

I smiled and took a seat in the room to wait. I was anxious to see LJ and I hoped he'd remember me from our meeting at the courthouse. I had promised him then that things would turn out all right and now it was time to make good on that promise. The one thing I didn't do was promise something and not follow through. A promise was a promise. My daddy had raised me to respect the meaning of the word.

"It's not to be taken lightly," he'd always say.

A grin crept across my face as the thoughts of him entered my mind. It'd been seven years since I'd seen my parents. Richard had forbid me from contacting them. I had tried once and was severely beaten for it. I hadn't tried it since.

_Flashback: 22 years ago – 1983_

"_Hi, Daddy!" I squealed as he walked into the kitchen where my mother was making breakfast._

"_Good morning, Sweetheart!" He chuckled and scooped me into his arms._

_I was 14, but I was still a daddy's girl. Even as a teenager I still cuddled with him in his large Lazyboy recliner in the evenings and tagged along when he had to work on the weekends. _

_However, unlike most men, my father's job required us to move around from place to place. I had lived all over the world before finally settling in West Point, New York. My dad was keen on staying here for a few years so I could attend and graduate from West Point Military Academy. He dreamed of me following in his footsteps and going on to become an honorable soldier._

"_Do you like it here, Kassy?" he asked as he pulled me onto his lap._

"_Yes," I said, though I wasn't exactly sure. We had only lived here a week so far. I hadn't experienced enough of my surroundings to make an accurate determination._

"_That's my girl," he bellowed joyously. _

_My mother just smiled at the two of us. As she always said, we were her Motley Crew._

_End of Flashback_

"Agent Hill, Burrows as you requested," an even ruder guard barked.

I jumped up from my chair as I was completely startled from my thoughts. "Oh, yes, thank you," I said as LJ entered the room.

His eyes widened like saucers. "You're…you're the girl that was with that Mahone guy in the courthouse," he stammered.

A smiled crossed my face. "I am. Only he doesn't know I'm here."

LJ's face twisted to that of question. "Why did you come?"

Placing a hand on his shoulder, "To help you," I said truthfully. LJ's eyes widened again as we both took a seat. "I'm going to follow you in the transport van when they release you. Once you're dropped off and I'm sure nobody is monitoring you, I'll pick you up, okay?" I leaned forward in the chair, propping myself up on my knees with my elbows.

"What about my dad?" LJ questioned, his eyes somewhat fearful.

"LJ, you need to understand that your father is an escaped criminal," I tried to explain tenderly. I knew this was a sensitive subject for him. "You need to stay away from him. Any contact with him could put you right back behind bars. Do you understand me?" I grasped his hands firmly in mine for emphasis.

LJ swallowed, tears gathering in his eyes. He was silent for a moment before sighing. "Can I stay with you?"

I fell completely silent, stunned at his question. In all my planning of this trip, I had never even considered where I would take LJ. "Let's take it one step at a time," I finally answered because I didn't know what else to say at that very moment. "Hey," I got his attention again because it looked like his thoughts had wandered.

"Yeah?" he said quietly, his gaze meeting mine again.

I squeezed his hands in comfort. "Everything will work out in the end, okay?" I said confidently, and I truly believed it. He nodded. "Just keep your chin up."

I was taken aback by what happened next. LJ wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. Relaxing, I smiled at the tender embraced and returned it. "Thank you," was all he said.

Tears gathered at my eyes, but I blinked them back. "You're more than welcome."

* * *

><p>With my newly purchased cheap baseball cap and sunglasses on, I sat nonchalantly in my car across the street from where the transport van had dropped LJ off. He was currently sitting on a bench acting as if he didn't know what to do next. We had talked about our plans in detail before I left the prison. He was to tell no one I had been to see him and I was to grab him once we were sure no one was watching. It didn't take a genius to figure out LJ's sudden release was a ploy to draw his father out.<p>

My maternal instincts suddenly heightened when a man with shaggy brown hair approached LJ and started hassling him. I rolled down my window to hear what it was about.

Stepping closer to the bench, "Hey, you mind sparing some change?" the man asked.

LJ glanced at him and put his hands up in a surrendering motion. "No," he replied simply.

The man was persistent though and decided to take a seat on the bench. "Come on, man."

"No, I'm all tapped out," LJ repeated.

"You got something," the man insisted, slugging LJ in the arm. "I'll take whatever you got."

I was ready to jump out of my car and pull LJ from the situation, but I decided to give it a bit more time. If this dude got violent, then I'd step in with brute force.

"Seriously, I just got out of lockup," LJ admitted. "I would if I could."

That's the last thing I heard because I bolted out of the car, not bothering to slam its door behind me. After a bit more banter, the guy had thrown a punch in LJ's face.

I booked it across the street in seconds. LJ was now trying to defend himself as the scum had him pinned to the wall. I grabbed hold of a handful of the guy's hair and yanked him backward. He detached from LJ immediately as I threw him to the ground.

"Yo, bitch, get the fuck off me!" he shouted as I pressed my knee hard into his back.

"You touch that boy again and I'll ram my heel so far up your ass, you'll have constipation problems the rest of your life," I growled darkly. I was beyond livid. "Got it?" I challenged. When he didn't answer, I yanked his head up by his hair again and forced him to look at me. "Got it, asshole?" I repeated.

"Yeah, whoa, yeah, I got it crazy lady," he reluctantly answered, a sense of fear in his tone.

"You got that right," I said with a smirk.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	11. Kidnapped

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 11: Kidnapped

"Is he going to be all right?" I asked the nurse who entered the room. I was worried. LJ had a nasty gash under his left eye and a few other minor cuts and bruises.

The nurse smiled. "A few stiches and he'll be as good as new," she replied.

Sighing, "Sounds good," I said.

"Kassidy, I'm fine. I swear," LJ said, grabbing my hand.

I met his gaze with a solemn expression. I felt completely ridiculous. He was the one who'd been beat up and yet, he was the one comforting me when I should have been comforting him. I found I couldn't contain my worry, though. I was frightened for him. He was just a kid and he'd already been through so much. "You're tough," I whispered finally.

"Gotta be with the shit I've been dealt," LJ said sarcastically, a smirk playing on his lips.

I chuckled. It felt good to legitimately laugh. It'd been a long time. "Ain't that the truth."

"Okay, he's all set. You can take him in just a few moments," the nurse informed us as she placed a bandage over the newly mended cut. LJ winced slightly under the pressure.

"Thanks," I responded. Both LJ and I were ready to leave the moment we got here.

I had been questioned by several local authorities and FBI agents about my identity on the way over to the hospital. However, thankfully LJ had come up with a clever cover story. He simply told them I was an old friend of his mother's and that he'd called me to come pick him up upon his release. The idiots that called themselves law enforcement had believed it, too. That was the hilarious part of the whole thing. LJ and I had a nice laugh over it.

"So what happens now?" LJ questioned.

"Guess you're coming home with me," I said truthfully. I wasn't sure how Richard was going to take the news of our new family addition, but frankly I didn't care. He wouldn't dare lay a hand on me in front of company, so I knew LJ and I would be safe. "I'll be out in a minute, okay, bud?"

LJ just nodded as I entered the bathroom. The stress was beginning to get to me. I felt sick to my stomach and my complexion in the mirror was much paler than normal. I knew it was all becoming too much, but I wasn't one to give up.

My thoughts were interrupted suddenly when I heard talking in the room. LJ was alone so I didn't have a clue who he could be talking to. Then I heard…

"Dad?"

I froze. Lincoln Burrows was here!

* * *

><p>It seemed as if hours had passed when I heard Lincoln's voice break the silence for the first time. "We got to move."<p>

_What now?! _I thought frantically.

If I pulled my gun, I risked hurting LJ. But if I didn't, I had no chance against Lincoln. I had seen enough pictures of him to guess how big of a guy he was.

I perked my ears up when I heard LJ's voice again.

"W-We can't, Dad," he stammered. I could hear the fear in his voice. He was about to reveal me.

"What're you talking about, son?"

"We can't just leave her here!" LJ pleaded to his obviously very confused father.

Then just as Lincoln was about to speak again, I ripped my gun from my side holster and swept from the bathroom. Although, when I exited, I didn't expect to see LJ at the end of my barrel. My eyes widened for a split second. "LJ?"

"Kass…-" he began, but stopped mid-sentence, his wide eyes identical to mine.

Not a second later I was grabbed violently from the back, my gun forced from my hands as my arms were twisted behind me. "Ouch!" I shrieked, grimacing in pain.

"You brought the police here?" Lincoln questioned his son. His tone was a mixture of anger and confusion.

"Dad, I…-"

"I came to help him!" I snapped at my captor as he cuffed my hands with my own handcuffs. "He's just a kid. Someone needs to look out for him because obviously you can't." My body burned with rage as I struggled to break Lincoln's hold, but it was a losing battle. Every time I moved, his iron grip only tightened.

"Listen, lady, you don't know a damn thing about me," Lincoln snarled back. I had obviously touched a raw nerve.

I tried to bite my tongue, but my next words came flying out before I could stop them. "You're 35 years old, you used to work at Ecofield packing boxes, your parents' names are Christina and Aldo Burrows, your younger brother is fugitive Michael Scofield, you murdered Terrance Steadman… oh, and you're an asshole. Did I miss anything?"

Lincoln was about to, I can only assume, murder me, when suddenly we all stopped and looked toward the ceiling. "Hospital security, wing 3 G," crackled over the intercom. "Hospital security, wing 3 G."

"Dad!" LJ practically yelled. "Let's just go! I'll explain later!" He scattered toward the window and pried it open.

I didn't expect what happened next. Without warning, Lincoln hoisted me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and made a b-line for the window.

Beating on his back, "Put me down!" I shouted, but to no avail.

LJ jumped down first. Then Lincoln. He landed on the hood of the car to shorten the distance to the ground. LJ then scrambled to the passenger side, while I was shoved into the tiny backseat, and Lincoln climbed behind the wheel. He feverishly started the engine, squealing the tires as he floored it out of the alley way onto the highway.

* * *

><p>Silence had settled among the car. I hadn't made a sound since being forced into the backseat 20 minutes earlier. I didn't know if I was afraid or just in shock. This meeting with the infamous Lincoln Burrows had not been planned, and now I had been kidnapped by him.<p>

I watched quietly as LJ examined the damage done to his face in his visor mirror.

"So let me get this straight." LJ finally spoke. "You-you paid that meth-head to whoop my ass?"

Lincoln glanced in the rearview mirror, then at his son. "Yup."

I couldn't help but snort from the backseat in disgust. Some father he was.

"Feds were waiting for me to come getcha," Lincoln continued to explain. "It was the only way." He looked over at LJ again. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah," LJ laughed. "Yeah, it got me four stitches."

Lincoln smirked. "Adds character." He then picked up a cooler sitting next to him and handed it to LJ. "Here, take that. There's some ice in there. Put it on the eye. Keep the swelling down."

LJ opened the cooler and pulled out a bag of ice. He didn't waste any time pressing it against his sliced open eye. I couldn't help but notice the smile that had been plastered to his face since seeing his father again.

Turning to his son again, "I've been in a few fights in my day, too," Lincoln said. "Too many," he added, obvious regret in his tone.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	12. Hostage

**Seasons of the Heart**

Chapter 12: Hostage

I awoke with a start. Nightmares had plagued my dreams again. Sweat ran down my brow as I jerked up right in the backseat. All the years of abuse by my husband had traumatized me more than I cared to let on.

"Are you okay, Kassidy?"

LJ's voice snapped me from my flashback. I met his gaze with uncertain eyes, but forced myself to nod anyway.

"I'm good. Just a nightmare, bud," I said, brushing it off. LJ had enough to worry about without my problems thrown into the mix.

"Here, let me take those cuffs off." He reached toward me with the tiny key in his hands as I did my best to turn around in the small backseat, and with just a bit of effort, the kid finally freed me.

I rubbed my wrists as I gave LJ a weak smile of appreciation. A second later, I heard Lincoln grunt. "What?!" I snapped. "Got something to say?" My eyes burned into his through the rearview mirror as our lines of sight landed on one another.

"Just wonderin' what the hell gives you the right to take on responsibility of my son," Lincoln growled back. He was obviously a little pissed off that he couldn't care for his next of kin.

I shrugged. "Somebody has to because like I said, you obviously can't."

Suddenly the car came to a screeching halt right in the middle of the highway. I jarred forward, just about smashing my head into the seat in front of me.

"What the fuck, man?!" I yelled, my stare now even more intense as I gripped the seats in front of me with white knuckles. "Are you trying to get somebody killed, or are you just a lunatic?!"

"Kassidy…" LJ whispered, but then trailed off as he looked at me with wide eyes. I wasn't sure if he was shocked about my language, my tone with his father, or both.

I decided to ignore him, though, my stare continuing to bore into Lincoln like acid.

Lincoln jerked round, grabbing me by the throat. "Listen lady, either you shut your mouth or I won't hesitate to leave you on the side of the road!" he bellowed, his irises ablaze.

I began to claw at his steel-like fingers, but with no success. My eyes widened in fear as my airway was practically crushed under his grip, thoughts of my husband tearing through my mind. It wasn't until LJ cried desperately for his father to let me go, that he finally released me. I coughed raggedly as I attempted to catch my breath again. Then without even thinking about it, I reached up and slapped Lincoln as hard as I could in the face.

"You son-of-a-bitch! Don't you _ever_ grab me like that again!" I shouted as a stray tear rolled down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away.

A few tense moments of silence passed between us, then Lincoln hissed, "Sit back and shut up."

I gritted my teeth to keep myself from retorting, and forced myself to fall back into the seat. It was then that I realized how bad my shoulder hurt. My gunshot wound was far from healed.

LJ just sighed. I knew he was confused. He didn't know whether to defend me or his father. I didn't expect him to defend me. He hardly knew me.

"It's okay, LJ," I said quietly, knowing he'd know what I meant.

He turned a weak smile back on me. "Thanks, Kassidy. Really." Then he turned back, facing forward, though he couldn't sit still. There was no doubt about it, he was anxiety ridden.

"How ya feelin'?" Lincoln asked, glancing toward his son.

LJ met his father's gaze for a moment. "Okay, I guess." He paused, continuing to fidget in his seat. "Tired."

Lincoln nodded, then sighed softly. "I'm a target, kid. As long as you're with me, so are you. Things could get a whole lot worse before they get better. You understand?"

"But after we meet up with Uncle Mike and get to Panama…" LJ inquired, a look of desperation creeping to his face.

I noticed Lincoln stiffen when LJ mentioned Panama. I figured it was because I was in the car, and I was a threat to the plan.

"Panama ain't a sure thing; your uncle's plan is dangerous. I mean really dangerous," Lincoln said truthfully. He sure didn't beat around the bush about the very risky situation he was in.

I couldn't help but scoff. "You think Panama's going to save you?"

At these words, Lincoln's gaze met mine again through the rearview mirror, and I had a feeling that if it wasn't for LJ being in the car, he'd probably have murdered me and thrown my body in some roadside ditch by now.

"Kassidy, please!" LJ exasperated, turning around to look at me, clearly at wits end.

"LJ, no!" I shot back, frustrated. "I told you, whether you believe me or not, he's… I mean your dad is dangerous!" Our eyes were locked in a dual now. Who would break first was anyone's game. "He may have you fooled…-"

"Bitch! Shut up!" Lincoln suddenly roared, slamming his hands into the steering wheel, causing both the kid and I to jump.

LJ looked startled. I, however, was becoming increasingly worried for my life. Whether I was going to make it out of this situation alive, I didn't know.

A long stretch of silence followed the outburst, and with each passing moment, my anxiety began to rise. The quietness surrounding the three of us made me feel even less in control because I didn't know what was about to happen next… and I didn't like it. I was a government agent. I was trained for this type of scenario. I was supposed to be in control all the time, yet here I was the one being held captive in the backseat of a speeding car by a fugitive.

"Please, Kassidy, will you at least listen to what my dad has to say?" LJ finally asked quietly, a twinge of desperation lining his voice. "There's another side to this story that I want you to hear."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


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